Tonight, after my nearly-four-year-old son’s hour-long tantrum culminating in him being held down in the car so he wouldn’t unbuckle his seat belt or hit my husband, I said while clearly shaken-up: What if I had been by myself? What would I’ve done?
Person who shall remain anonymous: God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.
Me: So what about someone who commits suicide? God’s like: Oops. Misjudged THAT one.
Because seriously, what does that platitude even mean? It’s said a hundred different ways, but it all sounds the same to me: God has given you CRAP and you better deal with it… smiling.
And if you don’t deal? Doesn’t that mean your God isn’t omniscient? Which is kind of an important part of the definition in most mono-theist conceptions of a god.
Or putting suicide aside, what if the person handles it with heroin? A fifth of Jack Daniels? Unprotected sex? Violence? (Because I would’ve LOVED to handle this afternoon with violence. Or at least duct tape.) Is that the HANDLE God’s aiming for?
I’m totally broken by my son’s tantrums. By his inability to control his emotions. He just goes shark. Something somehow somewhere hits him and BAM. He is unreachable, inconsolable and exhausting. Screaming and thrashing. Anywhere from fifteen minutes to sixty. Five to seven times a week.
And for the other twenty-three hours, he’s a sweet, well-mannered, verbal, athletic, independent and loving child.
I was motivated to cut television out completely because I thought that TV wasn’t helping him. There isn’t a causal relationship (these began long before television was apart of our lives), but TV did seem to introduce additional edginess. And he didn’t need any help.
But without TV? His episodes now occur in the middle of the night. Almost every night.
Yes, we are seeking help. And yes, it is probable that he will grow out of it. So don’t give me your non-MD/PhD diagnosis of my son. I’ll troll your blog like a dog in heat if you come after him.
I feel helpless and hopeless tonight. Because my son had two episodes in twelve hours. Because I bust my butt to parent without television, and we are up in the middle of the night trying to calm our inconsolable boy. Because the stigma of getting help is almost as bad as the stares during his rages.
I’m fighting the isolation, and I am losing. The episodes are unpredictable except that having two in a single day is rare. (Not rare this weekend, but when E’s tired, everything is worse and he had trouble falling asleep at the beach.)
And where can I go with a forty-pound unpredictable boy, his twenty-pound sister and my baby bag? Nowhere that isn’t within sight of the car. Or without a friend.
I’ve become careful and edgy. I cry easier. I have to stay away from other stressful events because I’m already at my limit. My edge.
He screams at me: GO AWAY!
And as I walk away, he screams louder almost terrified: STAY MAMA!
So I come back and he says: BUT NOT IN MY ROOM!
I have no place to go to help him.
And sometimes he hits and kicks in between the screaming and tears and terror. He’s bigger now. The physical attacks are more painful. They set off my own history of violence. Sometimes all I can do is walk away until I squash the desire to protect myself first.
And afterwards he cries. He tells me: Mama I don’t like when I feel that way.
And my heart breaks. He’s so little and scared. And I don’t know how to help him.
So when you say: God doesn’t give you more than you can handle, I think: God gave me this?
Don’t tell me God’s just very impressed with my strength. I’ve been strong all my life. I don’t have anymore to prove to God.
And all those people with their easy children? They are weak?
Here I sit writing between my tears. But if your version of God is one that makes you cry from pain and humilation, you can keep him. Tuck him next to your platitudes and have fun pulling him out when YOUR life sucks.
Meanwhile, I’ll sit next to my God on the edge of the bed while aching to pull the covers over my head.
Me: God, what if I can’t handle it?
God: Life sucks sometimes. But you don’t have to do it alone.
Me: Thanks. I still hate you right now.
And God will laugh. We have that kind of relationship.
It’s the laughter that makes me willing to get out of bed each day.
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Sorry. We’re going through something very similar these days ourselves.
I’m sorry to hear that but really appreciate you sharing it. Because the isolation is so hard. Thank you.
I have nothing to offer. I love you though, and I don’t love everybody…just you and like 4 or 5 other people.
<3
I love being special and being loved by you is very elite group. So thank you.
Hey Dude,
I am sorry to hear that E and you are struggling and having a hard time. I love you both sooooooo much and know that you, Scott, and E will figure out how to help each other . You are a wonderful Mom and E is lucky to have you! I’m always here for all of you!
Thanks Aunt K. Love you much!!
Alex, I’m sorry! Rage is a scary, terrifying thing. I’ll offer no advice, but know you are not alone.
Thank you for making me feel less alone.
Rage IS scary. And sad.
I’ve heard that saying a lot in the last 6 years, and it still sucks every time. I spent 8 years telling people that there was something wrong with my son besides ADHD. Finally, this year we were able to get some help and I don’t have to remain so isolated. Good luck, and hug your critter for me. We’ve definitely been there
I’m so glad that you found the appropriate help. I get so frustrated when I don’t feel heard. I actually stopped my pediatrician and said: I appreciate what you’re saying but I just don’t think it applies here.
And he was awesome and agreed. But I had given myself a pep talk beforehand just in case I felt misunderstood.
Thank you for letting me know that I am not alone. And I will definitely hug E for you.
What a beautifully written, straight from the heart post. Thank you for sharing your struggles. I’m not quit there yet, my son is only 13 months, but the sayings “everything happens for a reason” and “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle” have always irked the shut out of me. I am the least patient person I know and some days terrify me and the tantrums gave only just begun in out house.
Hang in there and find solace in knowing you’re not alone.
Thank you again for sharing. I appreciate your candor.
Thank you so much for your kind words.
I wasn’t known for my patience, but it’s amazing what we can do when we must. As long as I make sure to have alex-time too. You will surprise yourself too!
Hey – I’ve talked to my husband about this as he used to help boys through this (he worked at a boy’s home). His first thought was to cut out any white bread and sugar from E’s diet (if he has any) as this could cause fluctuations in his sugar levels. Is he extremely tired after the bouts? Have the doctor’s asked you to write down what he is eating during the day?
As far as TV goes we don’t let Maia watch TV at all. She did for a very little bit and we saw a huge change in her, biting, hitting, scratching. Without TV she is interactive, happy little yogini.
Speaking of Yoga, another avenue that may help him by teaching breathing techniques (you may think I’m crazy for saying that). I suggest talking to Leslie Lytle or Lydia Griffith. Lydia actually has a day camp up in Richmond for Kid Yoga. Let me know if you would like the connection!
Hugs to you my friend….
I think the yoga idea is good. he did yoga for a few months after school and while it didn’t “fix” it, i believe that it adds to his coping skills in the long term.
In general, he has very little white flour or sugar as is and it’s definitely not in a pattern with food. Nor is he tired afterwards. Although I would say that being tired often makes the episodes worse or more often (hence this weekend) but he’s not overtired from lack of an appropriate bedtime and routine. He’s just not a good sleeper. Never has been.
I appreciate the hugs and thoughts.
What a painful, but beautifully-written, honest post.
I have no real wisdom to offer but this:
After I had my son, I was completely overwhelmed and I honestly felt that I had been given more than I could handle. You know that speech the flight attendent gives before takeoff about how to use the oxygen mask on yourself first in the event of a crash landing? I had a who kept reminding me to do just that–to use the mask on myself first so I could then use it on Matthew.
So, on really tough days, this is what I practise to get through. Use your mask first so that you have the strength to help E. Whether that means five minutes in the bathroom to collect yourself or some time to write, you’ll then be in a better place to help him.
You aren’t alone, even though it really feels like you are.
Hugs.
Thank you for your kind words. And I am learning to use my oxygen mask more adeptly these days. Because it really is the only way I can be the mama that I want to be. and the best way that i can help my son.
the hugs help too
Those kinds of religious platitudes are just some of the many reasons I’ve given it up. The problem of evil abounds, religions explain it away, and when it’s your child that has the problem, platitudes do not help.
Alex, I’ve been through this (not tantrums, but some very serious psychopathology). I can empathize with the pain, anger, hurt. The answers aren’t easy, and it’s more of a process than a magic bullet, but at least we live in an age when we can DO something about it.
Better living through biochemistry. As they say, the gods help those who help themselves.
I am very grateful for an age where help is plentiful (or at least available. to say child psych is plentiful is just not true) and no one is offering an exorcism or leaches (or no one I associate with).
Thank you for understanding the pain, anger and hurt. It helps.
I can’t imagine what that must be like. I’m the parent of a (grown) easy child. I don’t know what I would have done if my journey had been like yours. Please know that for every judgmental idiot in the world, there are quiet people (like me) who empathize with you and wish you well. Peace.
thank you for being the quiet empathizer. I really appreciate your comment and thoughts of peace for my family.
Oh, have I ever been there with my 2nd son (middle of 3). And while I’m an atheist and bristle even more than you do at the wretchedly platitudinous “God won’t give you more than you can handle”, I do have to say, I’ve gained a LOT from parenting this boy. I’m a different woman and parent today than I was three years ago because of the three years of holy hell I’ve gone through. Yes. Three years. I hope your stint in the fiery land is shorter.
Parenting this kid has meant slowing life way, way down. Like you, almost never going anywhere for a while. Sucks, but it’s survival. Finding new ways to get my mojo back. Learning about the way he filters the world…and realizing that actually, I’m a heck of a lot like him. Huh.
Yesterday we had a complete and utter shitstorm of a meltdown. I attempted to force him into his carseat, which was a total failure (and this was in a car with four other children and a friend of mine, and I really wanted to get us all home). I won’t tell you what I did next, except that it wasn’t violent but was illegal, didn’t make the trantrum better but did get us home. And at some point, I thought “well, THAT hasn’t happened in a long, long time.” Which means life must be a million times better (it is, in fact it’s usually great). And I did handle it, somehow!
I keep telling myself that I have the ability to do this, which might be just as platitudinous, but it must be true because I’m still here and he’s still here. And sometimes the “ability to do this” looks more like the “ability to page my husband and tell him to come home RIGHT NOW so that he still has three children and a wife when he gets home.” Whatever works.
“that didn’t happen in a long long time” is just the hope I need. thanks.
and we’ve been dealing with this since he was 15 months old. Maybe not as often in the beginning (maybe?) but definitely there. I think that I just hadn’t realized how different our experience was from the average parent for a long long time.
I totally believe that it makes me a different person in really good ways. Honestly, I’d be SO self-righteous if my kid was easy.
It does change you, and usually for the better! I have so much more compassion for my kids, myself, and for other parents & kids because of my parenting journey in general and my journey with this son in particular.
Having friends who know him well and can be safe people for him to be with has been so valuable for him and for me. It’s nice to hear them point out that they also see the year-to-year differences in how much easier things are.
I’m willing to bet your experiences are probably less non-normative than you think. It’s just SO isolating and frustrating to be the parent in this situation, and while it’s happening, all the quiet, easygoing kids of the world seem to appear in a parade before you, accompanied by their parents, who seem so smugly certain that their children are angels due to their parenting skills (and that yours is tantruming for 2 hours straight because you suck). Really, though, a lot of those parents have totally been there, are thanking their lucky stars that it’s you in the moment right now and not them (but their moment was an hour ago or will come later today), and are also feeling a hell of a lot of sympathy for you.
Sorry you’re having a difficult time. (Is this what I’m in store for at age 4? Because age 3 is already kicking my ass a bit.) I’ve been thinking of you a lot lately, because I have been wondering how much the television affects Mr. B’s moods. I’ve been trying to cut back, thinking that his anger/hormones are caused, in some way, by the sedentary-ness of sitting in front of moving images. But I don’t know….
For us, television didn’t help. And certain shows were totally out. BUT I think television can be a great tool IF the kid can handle it. Someone commented on my I Ask television post that the energy has got to come out somewhere. Maybe try some days on and some days off and see if there’s a difference?
thanks for your support too. good luck with mr. b
Yeah, I don’t believe in that saying. Otherwise there wouldn’t be so many people on drugs, street kind or prescription. Plus, would God really having lil’ kids being raped because they can “handle it?” Me thinks not.
Hang in there. Ask for help if you need it. Whether that be through a doctor, a friend, a relative, whomever. One of the things I see as a teacher is that sometimes parents feel if they ask for help they are seen as failing. You aren’t. AT ALL. BY ANYONE. You aren’t expected to know the answers. I’m not sure who DOES know the answers but ask until you find someone who does.
<3
I was so embarrassed to talk to E’s preschool teacher about it (and she turned out to be the least concerned out of everyone!) but we are gathering help around us. I think this post was part of me gathering my help. So thank you for being so encouraging here and on twitter too.
I am so sorry you are going through this. You are doing a great job for E–love, patience, and professional guidance. Don’t be too hard on yourself on the days the patience isn’t there either. You should not be expected to be perfect Alex.
I had this situation with Monkey. Email me if you need anything–seriously!
Thanks. I will probably make you email me your entire experience with Monkey. It’s amazing how hearing other people’s stories helps.
And thanks for reminding me that being perfect isn’t going to fix this. PHEW because I was sucking at that.
I can’t tell you that I know what you are going through. I don’t. I can say that you are brave and strong. Your little man will look back on these days some time in the future and the love will overflow!
Thank you for reminding me that I’m brave and strong. I keep reading it when I’m overwhelmed.
Oh, heartbreaking. I’m sorry you’re dealing with this right now. And I’m all about letting God know you’re pissed. He can take it. He’s no sissy.
You and yours are in my thoughts, my prayers. I’m praying you find the right person who knows exactly how to help your son, and you guys, through this.
Praying for us to find the right person to help us is just the most perfect prayer. Thank you so much Missy
I’ve always wondered about that saying as well… even though I myself have said it before. I don’t know that I really believe God gives us horrible, stressful, traumatic situations because we are strong enough or he wants to toughen us up. Like my sister – she’s gone through YEARS of debilitating chronic fatigue, fought skin cancer, and now has a reflux baby on a feeding tube. And honestly I don’t think she’s that strong – at least not strong enough to handle all that!
Some stuff in life is the result of others’ poor decisions and unfortunately that is a result of free will. But some things, like what you are going through with E, have other explanations – or we never find one at all.
Faith is supposed to have doubts. And as long as your God sits by you and agrees that life is crappy and he’ll do what he can to help – then I think you CAN handle it.
I am a strong believer in the phrase “everything happens for a reason” because I have found through some of the toughest times in my life – I came out the other side with a knowledge, understanding, or skill that I never would have gained otherwise. There is always good – ALWAYS!
Praying for you guys. Hoping it’s a short road – but no matter what, you’ll get through it. You have to. He’s your son.
Thank you for your prayers. And I agree that it’s not FAITH without DOUBT. With doubt it’s just fact ;)
And I think that my faith means this is a situation that I can use to grow rather than shrink. But it’s painful to grow, you know?
I have some tears with/for you guys while reading this. As your husband may remember me telling him during a doctor’s visit or two, I can relate a bit. My son, now 3.5, would bash his head into walls, head butt, inflict pain and was completely inconsolable, too, when he was younger. His turned out to have an extremely strong temperament paired with an inability to express all that was going on in that little head verbally. I researched and googled and cried and felt like the worst mother in the world so many days, but now I know that I am not. I fight for my child, took the hits back then, endured the screaming (still do sometimes) and kept on trucking. THAT’S why we get special ones like this, because no matter what we keep on plowing through. You love him. You are a great mom, and you are the best mom for E, just like I am the best mom for G. Hugs to you this morning.
It’s amazing that we can keep trucking. Who knew what reserves we would have?
And I think that E is the same: an extremely strong will paired with an emotional/social immaturity. I hope he grows out of it with help as well.
Thanks for the hugs.
oh, sweetie. i had no idea you were going through this.
i am so sorry.
so, we ask for help in these situations. we reach out — just like you did — and we seek experience, strength and hope from others who have been through it, and from professionals. There is no shame in getting E tested and seen by a child psychologist/psychiatrist — that’s why they exist!! the docs at uva child and family psychiatry are great — i know because i have william under their care. email me if you want the details.
you are a terrific mom.
thank you. we are having him evaluated to be sure we aren’t missing something more than emotional/social immaturity. And we’ve met some great people here in richmond but I may email you just to hear more about your experience. And I can’t tell you how much it means to me for you to share that william is under their care.
the ones with easy kids aren’t weak, it’s just they have different things that seem beyond unbearable. I have certainly felt that way but about different things in life. And I hate it when people give me that line anyway I just want to say “I already know that and I’ll handle it in a mintue when I finish having my pity party and you get out of my face!” Hugs and I hope he turns back into your amazing child for the full 24 hours. . .at least until puberty
Thank you. And i know they aren’t weak… we all have our crosses to bear.
Rock on with your pity party.
And thanks for the hugs.
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